Nic

When I was little, during Ceausescu's time, I was lucky to have a godmother in Germany whose mother, Oca, not only was an ideal nanny but she also used to send me wonderful things, which went far beyond a socialist child's imagination. That is how, for my sixth

Cuckoo. . . cu-ckoo!. . . in the garden,Cuckoo. . . cu-ckoo!. . . in the grove,All along the springtime seasonThe world of trees we always rove.  Tiny birds, with gray down feathers,And with our fearless flight,All the trees in our forestKnow and love and see us right.

While flying way above, a dove has fallen on a rock And he is just a chick, poor him, and he can barely fly!. . .  Big waves are coming, hit the rock and he is so afraid. . . When drops of water splash his down, he's getting soaking wet.  Sad as he is, he hides his

excerpt the shotguns in their slip covers, awaken from the sleepiness of the road smiling in anticipation at the show of the imminent hunt looking for strong sensations imagining the report of the rifle the bunch of metallic shots as an attribute of their being as an energy

Many dragonflies so gracefulWing in summer air fine,Wearing their tiny stays,Bringing back our hope so peacefulGraciously on their wings ashine: Summer days, my dragonflies. Transformation everywhere,Poetry and many twinkles,And below the solar praise:Fresh the delta, rosy

see image excerpt (Lat. Coccinella semipunctata ) From the beginning of spring till the end of autumn, one can see everywhere, but mostly in the orchards, a tiny insect, flying or walking here and there, whose body is round and convex, the legs are short and the forewings

Rhododendron on Bucura lakeshore by Cristina LazaroniRestrictions have their place in a national parkMany people know why there are restrictions in a national park and agree with them. I have received various questions from tourists wanting to know why, in the Retezat National

excerpt I was a boy around thirteen when I first learned how to wield a rifle – though I confess that, ever since, I have made no progress in this craft, quite the contrary, I dare say! I had accompanied my old man to Whitepond Baths, that had seen the cream of the crop

The drought had killed any pale of windThe sun had melted, the dust stayed skinned. What was ere left was a parched sky a-flood. From shafts lean buckets are welling out mud. Over the forests, increasingly – fires, fires,Are dancing in savage, satanical spires. I take

see Gallery The Story of the Pig is one of Ion Creanga's loveliest stories. The story of the pig in contemporary Romanian art is, in its turn, one of the most exciting. The image of the pig in current art ranks, unexpectedly, among the most significant and consistent

The article of Peter Singer about monkey rights and human rights published in the 232nd issue of Dilema veche praises the recent approval by the Commission for the Environment, Agriculture and Fishing of the Spanish Parliament concerning the Great Project regarding monkeys.

Acipenser guldenstaedti The Sturgeon Collection of the Grigore Antipa National Museum of Natural History I had the chance to work in the institution managed by the academician Mihai Băcescu for a quarter of a century and to know well its programmes concerning the development